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| (Des Moines Register. June 9, 1912) |
The Des Moines Conversational Club had a simple idea. Get a small group of women together and let them talk.
Not
gossip. Not small talk. But genuine conversation about books, art, philosophy, politics,
and whatever else was going on in the world.
The
club was organized in 1891 at the home of Carrie Moss Hawley, better known in
the newspapers as Mrs. H. B. Hawley. She got the idea after reading about
Margaret Fuller, the writer, editor, and early advocate for women’s rights.
Fuller had held a series of “conversations” for women in Boston during the
1830s and 1840s.
The
idea was to give women a place where they could discuss serious subjects and be
taken seriously themselves. Carrie thought Des Moines could use something like
that.
The
club stayed small on purpose. It didn’t pack an auditorium or sign up half the
city. It worked best with a handful of people in a room, close enough that
everybody had to take part.
Members
were expected to speak without notes—listen, respond, and keep the discussion
moving. No hiding behind note cards or newspaper clippings.
That
was harder than it sounds.
Public speaking was still mostly a man’s game. Men practiced it in courtrooms, churches, political meetings, business clubs, and fraternal lodges. Women were expected to listen, smile, and maybe play something on the piano afterward.
The
Conversational Club gave them practice talking back—not rudely, but
intelligently and with some confidence.
Topics
weren’t announced far in advance. That kept members on their toes and prevented
them from preparing speeches at home. The point was conversation. They had to
deal with whatever turn the discussion took.
Sometimes
it went well. Other times, somebody talked too long, somebody else lost the
thread, and everyone went home wondering what they’d spent the last two hours
discussing. That was part of the process.
For
such a small club, it had surprising reach.
In
May 1914, the members gathered for dinner at the West Grand Avenue home of
former Iowa governor Warren Garst and his wife, Clara. After dinner, they
settled in for a conversation.
Garst
had served briefly as governor after Albert B. Cummins left office for the
United States Senate. In 1914, he was Iowa’s industrial commissioner, working
on factory conditions, industrial accidents, and compensation for injured
workers. He was still very much in the middle of the state’s political and
reform life.
Carrie Moss Hawley - Mrs. H. B. Hawley
(Des Moines Register. June 9, 1912)
That made the evening more than a social call. A small group of Des Moines women was sitting in a former governor’s home, talking with him and his wife about the affairs of the day.
The
Conversational Club may have been small, but it wasn’t tucked away from the
people or ideas moving through the city.
Its
members were connected all over Des Moines. Some became leaders of the Des
Moines Women’s Club. Others were active in the Iowa Federation of Women’s
Clubs, literary societies, and charitable organizations.
The
little club became something of a training ground. Women who learned to lead a
conversation there went on to run meetings, organize programs, and speak before
much larger groups.
Carrie
Hawley was the force behind it.
A
1912 newspaper profile described her as a writer, philosopher, and student of
“New Thought.” That movement covered a lot of territory—positive thinking,
mental discipline, spiritual development, mental healing and the belief that
the mind could influence the body.
Some
of it was practical. Some of it wandered fairly far out into the weeds.
Carrie
was interested in all of it, but she didn’t swallow everything whole. She read
Emerson, Thoreau, Marcus Aurelius, and William James, along with newer writers
on psychology and mental healing.
She
was curious about spiritualism, but wanted evidence before she accepted it.
That seems to have been her usual approach. Listen to the idea. Turn it over.
Ask a few questions. Keep what makes sense.
It
was also the approach she brought to the Conversational Club.
Carrie
didn’t want women memorizing somebody else’s opinion. She wanted them to figure
out what they believed and then explain it without fumbling through a stack of
notes.
She
wrote for newspapers and magazines, sometimes reaching a national audience. Her
subjects ranged from literature and art to psychology, meditation, and personal
growth.
She
also helped write a book called Your Future Revealed by the Gods of
Greece in the Words of Shakespeare.
The
Conversational Club was only part of her schedule. Carrie belonged to the Des
Moines Women’s Club, Unity Circle, the City Federation of Women’s Clubs, and
the Press and Authors Club. She served as president of the Iowa Press and
Authors Club and was active in the Roadside Settlement.
Each
group filled a different corner of Des Moines life.
The
Women’s Club worked on art, libraries, education, and civic improvement. The
Press and Authors Club brought writers together. The Unity Circle dealt with
religious and philosophical questions. The Roadside Settlement worked with
families who needed something more immediate than a good discussion.
Carrie
moved easily between those worlds. One day the subject might be Shakespeare or
the power of thought. The next it might be poverty, neighborhood conditions, or
the practical work of keeping a charitable organization going.
She
didn’t seem interested in joining clubs just to get her name into the yearbook.
The 1912 profile called her “conservative but cooperative.” She was willing to
help, but she didn’t say yes to everyone or everything.
She
wasn’t a radical in the usual sense. Carrie wasn’t appear interested in
knocking everything down. She wanted to open a few more doors and give women
room to grow.
Her
husband, Henry Brown Hawley, moved through another part of the same Des Moines
circle.
Henry Brown Hawley (Des Moines Register. April 20, 1904)
He organized the Bankers’ Accident Insurance Company and later the Great Western Accident Association. One biography called him the “Dean of Iowa accident insurance men.”
Insurance
was becoming one of Des Moines’s major industries, helping turn the city into a
regional financial center. He was involved with banks, real estate,
manufacturing, and other insurance concerns.
Then
there were the clubs.
Henry
belonged to the Grant Club and the Golf and Country Club. He was a high-ranking
Mason, a Shriner, and a Knight of Pythias. He was active in the Sons of the
American Revolution, serving as president of the Iowa society and later as a
national vice president.
That’s
a lot of memberships, even for a man who apparently enjoyed meetings.
Those
organizations were places where business executives, lawyers, and public
officials met, traded information, and decided which civic projects deserved
attention. Henry knew the people with money, influence, and access to city
leaders.
But
business wasn’t his only concern.
Henry
belonged to the Unitarian Church and supported the progressive wing of the
Republican Party. He was described as broad-minded and interested in reforms
that encouraged the “free and independent development of the individual.”
His
largest civic commitment was the Associated Charities of Des Moines. He helped
organize it in 1891, served on its board for the rest of his life, and spent
much of that time on its executive committee. He became president in 1913 and
later was named honorary president.
Associated
Charities tried to bring some order to the city’s patchwork of relief work.
Instead of every church, club, and private donor working alone, it attempted to
coordinate assistance and understand what families actually needed.
Henry
studied charitable organizations and foundations in other cities, looking for
ideas Des Moines could use.
He
also became involved in the peace movement through the insurance business.
In
1915, Henry was appointed to the Peace Committee of the World’s Insurance
Congress. Other members included Andrew Carnegie, Jane Addams, William Jennings
Bryan, and Stanford University’s David Starr Jordan.
That
was a long way from an ordinary club luncheon.
Insurance
leaders argued that they had a practical interest in preventing war. Their
business protected people against accidents and disasters. War was a disaster
turned loose, destroying lives, homes, and entire communities faster than
anyone could put them back together. He attended a 1915 insurance peace
congress in San Francisco.
Carrie
and Henry worked in different rooms, but they knew many of the same people.
Henry
moved through insurance offices, banks, men’s clubs, political circles and
charitable boards. Carrie worked through literary societies, women’s organizations,
and settlement work.Their home was a place where the two worlds met. The
Conversational Club began there.
Henry’s
success might have made some things easier. Money, social standing, and
connections always help. But Carrie wasn’t simply Mrs. Henry Hawley, wife of an
important insurance man. She had her own ideas, her own organizations, and her
own reputation.
Newspapers
profiled her because she was doing something worth writing about.
They
seem to have shared a belief that people could improve themselves and, with
enough work, improve the city around them. Carrie started with conversation and
ideas. Henry leaned toward organizations, boards, and money.
Neither
approach was flashy, but together they reached across a large part of Des Moines’
civic life.
Before
his death in 1928, Henry arranged for most of his fortune to establish the
Hawley Welfare Foundation. It was meant to support research, strengthen family
life, and provide constructive assistance in Des Moines. The foundation went
into full operation after Carrie died in 1943.
The
Conversational Club never became a large organization. That wasn’t what Carrie
wanted. It gave a small group of women a place to read, argue, ask questions,
and get comfortable saying what they thought.
Sometimes
they met in Carrie’s parlor. Sometimes they carried the conversation all the
way to a former governor’s dining room.
Not
too bad for a group of women sharing their views.
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